We must talk together again.

Now, we have no time, for, if I mistake not, there is our destination." They had been riding through splendid open forest, growing denser as they approached the ranges.

They had followed a creek all the way, or nearly so, and now came somewhat suddenly on a large reedy waterhole, walled on all sides by dense stringy bark-timber, thickly undergrown with scrub.

Behind them opened a long vista, formed by the gully, through which they had been approaching, down which the black burnt stems of the stringy bark were agreeably relieved by the white stems of the red and blue gum, growing in the moister and more open space near the creek.

In front of them was a slab hut of rich mahogany colour, by no means an unpleasing object among the dull unbroken green of the forest.